THE HEIRESS AND THE RUTHLESS REPORTER

THE NEWSSTAND

7:55pm.Evelyn lied to her father. Again.She told him she was studying at the library. The pearls were back in her jewelry box. The gala dress was gone. Now it was jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers that wouldn’t click on the pavement.

The city felt different at night. Colder. Louder.

The King Street newsstand was half-closed, metal shutter halfway down. Mr. Patel was wiping down the counter. And Damian was already there Leaning against the brick wall, hands in his pockets. Like he’d been waiting all day.

He looked up when she stopped in front of him.

*"Took you long enough."*. Evelyn crossed her arms. "I almost didn’t come. "Sure you did." His smirk was infuriating. "That’s why you’re shaking."

"I’m not—". "Don’t lie to me, Miss Moore. I hate liars."

He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. "Come on. Mr. Patel closes in ten."Damian ducked under the half-closed shutter and held it up for her.

Evelyn hesitated for half a second. Then she slipped inside.The newsstand smelled like old paper and rain. Towers of the Toronto Truth lined the walls. Headlines screaming. All of them with her father’s name. Mr Patel looked up from the counter. "Miss Moore." He didn’t sound surprised. "Back room is free."Evelyn’s stomach dropped. He knew.Damian locked the door behind them. The bell jingled, then silence.

Just the two of them. Surrounded by the truth.

He grabbed a copy of today’s paper and slammed it on the counter between them.

*SCANDAL AT CITY HALL: COUNCILMAN MOORE ACCUSED OF COVER-UP*

Her father’s face stared back at her.

"Tell me something," Damian said. His voice was low now. No more smirking.

"Do you believe it?"

Evelyn looked up at him. At the man her father called a parasite.

At the only person who might have answers.

And for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what the perfect daughter was supposed to say"Tell me something," Damian said. His voice was low now. No more smirking.

"Do you believe it?"Evelyn looked at her father’s face on the front page. Then at Damian.

Her throat was dry.*"I don’t know."*

The words hung in the air between them.

Damian went still. Like he wasn’t expecting that.

He studied her for a long moment. The hoodie, the sneakers, the way her hands were clenched in her lap. Nothing like the girl in the gala photos.

"Honest," he murmured. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

"I’m not what you think I am," she whispered.

"Then what are you?" He leaned on the counter, closing the distance between them. "Because the girl in that house lies for her father every night. But the girl standing here... she came to me."

Evelyn’s heart pounded. "Why are you doing this? Why me?" Damian reached under the counter. Pulled out a manila folder. Slid it across to her.

He didn’t open it."Because the truth doesn’t care who your last name is, Miss Moore."

His fingers brushed hers as he let go of the folder.

"And because I need to know which side you’re on."

Outside, the shutter rattled. 9pm. Time was up.